From These Eyes to Cracked Mirrors
by Sparoe
Summary: Kakashi can't help but stare at his reflection in the mirror. He is greeted with mis-matched eyes. They don't even seem real. He's sure if he looks at his hands they'd be red. Spoilers for episode 119/120. Might not need T rated, but I'm not sure.


If liked me, then all the italics would have strikes through them, but of course, it doesn't. If anyone knows how to do that, could you PLEASE tell me, and I would much appreciate it. [[hope it still has the same kinda effect I thought it had with strikes through]]

So this is my first Naruto fic..I be honest, I've seen like 5/6 episodes, totally out of order, read none of the manga... -nervous cough- Anyways~

I love Kakashi and hope I did him some justice, since I've read his bio like a million times.. My excuse for any OOCness is..he's greving.. -cough-

No, honestly, tell me if I did a really bad job [[don't be too harsh]] and help me get better okay? I would love anything advise for writing Kakashi [[any age]] since I hope to write him more as I watch more Naruto and learn about some of the other characters.

Thanks for giving me a chance!!

* * *

When I come back the first thing I do is stare at my reflection. I look deep into the mirror, as if something was hiding deep behind the layers of glass. All I get back is _his_ my eyes, one light blue, the other an usual red, a red that is unnatural. A red that doesn't belong to me. It makes me frown, the eye nuzzled between the lines of a scarring tissue crinkle accordingly. I keep looking dead ahead, peering deeply at the image with unblinking eyes, as if it would make my eyes return to normal. I feed myself denials. It will be gone in another second. Another minute. Another hour. Nothing changes, the mismatched eyes keep playing this game. A staring contest with the thirteen year old who has just lost his_ team mate_,his friend_._

I turn briskly away from the mirror, walking the few small steps that it takes to reach the bath. I plug the drain and crank the hot water, turning away after to strip. As the tub fills, with water so hot it looks more milky then clear, I stare at my toes, not wanting to look in the mirror again for I had become to _crave_ dislike my reflection, for it held the last haunting remainder of him.

I shut the water off and sink in quickly, my body tinkling and burning as the hot water steams me like I was a vegetable. Maybe that would be nice, to be just mindless veggie _maybe then I wouldn't have to feel this way._

Don't cry. I scold myself as the burning makes it way to my eyes, _though they still feel only half mine_, a strong ninja doesn't cry. That's what we have been trained, the words pounded into our brains. We aren't suppose to cry, strong ninjas don't cry. _What does that make him then?_

I scrub at my skin, as if there was something invisible on the surface that I needed to remove. I rub at it so hard that my already red skin becomes more raw, the water turned more murky with the suds as I wear the soap away to nothing. I wonder what it is like to die.

For some reason my body freezes at the thought, the small stub of soap slipping from my fingers and landing into the water. _I don't even hear the splash_. What would it be like, to leave this world; To have one's existence end. _To be able to see him again._

I splash water over my body, puddles littering the floor as a result, until the suds have clear off my skin. I start the same assault onto my hair, using so much shampoo that thick foam coats my hands and hides my hair. My eyes, which are still burning, sting as I use to much force and foam slides into his my eye. I reflectively bring my hand over it, which makes it worse for it only brings more foam in contact with it. _I wonder if he could feel this too._

I sit until the pain subsides, gingerly cracking my eye open a slit as if testing it. I was hurting fine. I pull the curtain across and pull the plug, watching absentmindedly as the water makes little tornado like shapes as it drains, before running the water once more. It still burns as I run my wrist under it. _I wonder why I'm not turned into ashes._

I stand as I make the shower run, the only sound escaping my lips as the cold water hits my back as the temperature scrambles to meet my order. I feel my back arching with a ill timed attempt to avoid the droplets. A few seconds too late could cost your life _or someone else's._

I step under the current, skin tingling with warmth that I didn't realize that I had lost standing still. The water weighed down my hair, making a soggy mess of the spikes. The foam ran down my face and back, eyes closed this time.

I scrub until every trace of foam was no more than diluted wisps running down the drain. I open my eyes when nothing but clear water is beating down, _I can't keep him in the dark can I?_ I turn off the water and begin to dry off. I tug on my clothes but as I button up my pajama top, I catch the reflection in the mirror. _I can see him._

I turn so fast I'm surprised my neck doesn't snap or at least crack. _I can see him. I can see him. Why can I see him?_ I reach out, fingers shaking, to wipe the steam from the glass. It squeaks,_ such a horrible noise_, but clears enough so the image becomes clearer.

He is looking back at me, goggles on, _I thought they were on his grave_, and he is smiling back. His eyes are both red, and mine, for what I can see, are both blue. His image changes as blood splatters across his face,_ I don't want to look at my hands for I'm sure they too are covered in blood._ I reach to touch the glass once more but it cracks, his left half of his face replaced with mine, _and it's covered in his blood._ I stumble backwards as the image springs to grab me, whispering _the truth_ lies. _You killed me._ It hisses as I shake my head, words lost in my throat.

I shut my eyes, swallowing hard as I wait for it to pass. One eye,_ my original_, slips open, to reveal nothing but my reflection once more. I stare at it again, taking in my own face and my eyes.

He died to protect me. He gave me his eye to preserve him. He wants to see the future through me. So the future I shall bring him.

And as I turn I can make out the ghost of his smile on my lips.


End file.
